


I'm the Innocent Bystander

by thereweregiants



Series: Headlines from the Onion [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Law Enforcement, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 18:23:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15824430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thereweregiants/pseuds/thereweregiants
Summary: Gabe keeps running into this hero at crime scenes, but the guy keeps showing up late and doesn't seem to be that heroic. Not that Gabe's really doing any better.based off the Onion headline: We Must Expand Our Nuclear Power Program If We're To Realize Our Dream Of Superhero Mutants





	I'm the Innocent Bystander

**Author's Note:**

> friends it was a perfect storm
> 
> wanted to get better at short fic bc I am Wordy McPlotterson and won't shut up for k after k if you let me  
> couldn't find any prompt generator I liked  
> and then [this article from the Onion](https://www.theonion.com/college-roommates-surprised-to-find-dorm-room-has-one-k-1819590820) kept goin around twitter and tumblr w people from like 4 diff fandoms going 'well that's a bed sharing fic obvs' and I am the biggest of sluts for bedsharing fics
> 
> haven't written that fic yet but I liked the idea of using Onion headlines for prompts. started collecting, started writing. most'll prob be AU, most'll be pretty lighthearted bc this is the Onion after all, and this is me trying to keep my wordy ass under 10k and hopefully half that in the future
> 
> superhero/police AU, using McCree's Mystery Man skin  
> i miss living in ny
> 
> written to the sound of my air conditioner valiantly trying to keep up with this swamp ass heat jesus fuck I am so done with summer  
> title from Warren Zevon's ["Lawyers, Guns, and Money"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F2HH7J-Sx80)

 As the last echoes of gunfire faded away, Gabe crept forward, looking for any sign of life from the hopefully-deceased gunrunners. He was pressing two fingers to a bloody neck when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye and spun around. His gun was trained on a man who landed cat-quiet on the floor, despite heavy-looking boots. Gabe took a split second to glace upwards. Had he jumped down from the roof? Or maybe that hole in the wall - but even then it was still thirty feet up. The man was still in the position he landed in, one hand bracing himself on the floor and the other on an absolutely enormous gun at his side. He had on a black fedora, some odd outfit involving strange half-cape and a waistcoat, a scarf over his lower face and…

Oh no. A mask.

Gabe sighed and relaxed from his shooting position. Yet another fucking hero, expecting to come in and save the day.

“Too late, mystery man. I’ve got this wrapped up.”

The man slowly stood, hand still on his gun. “Really.”

Gabe pulled his badge out of his back pocket and waved it at him, light streaming in from the bullet holes in the walls glinting off the gold and blue. “I called in my precinct, they’ll be here in just a few.”

As Gabe was shoving the badge back into his pocket, a shot rang out. He wheeled around, only to see one of the drug runners who was not quite as dead as he thought fall to the ground, bullet hole in his forehead. He looked back at the mystery vigilante, who had smoke rising from the end of his stupidly large gun.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said the masked man. “You would have been fine. You did all the heavy liftin’ anyways.” His head turned at the sound of sirens, and as the scarf shifted Gabe caught sight of a strong jawline and the edge of a moustache. “That’s my cue.”

Before Gabe could say anything else, the man was up at that hole in the wall, thirty feet in the air. He’d used the boxes and shipping containers to do rolling jumps off of the edges, moving nearly faster than Gabe could see. Gabe squinted up to see him tip his hat with what looked like a metal hand, then he vanished.

As Gabe raised his hands and called out “Off-duty police!” to the tactical team that started swarming the warehouse, his mind stayed on the mystery hero. Heroes and villains were part of their city, had been ever since the nuclear incident over at Indian Point some thirty years previous. New York was big and there were only so many cops to cover it, so the heroes were treated with cautious nonchalance, authorities officially neither assisting nor arresting.

Ana walked over, her sergeant, Moira, talking with the EMS squad that were checking over the bodies. “You’re okay, Gabriel? What happened?”

“I was coming back from the DMV when I saw Danvers, that guy we’ve been tracking off and on for the past few months. He was just...walking suspiciously, so I followed him a few blocks to the warehouse.”

“Walking suspiciously. Really.”

“You know what I mean, Ana. He was looking around too much, hunched over - not the body language from when when I saw him casually walking around during surveillance. I followed him here, watched him go inside. Poked my head in, saw guns. Was about to pull back and call for you when they spotted me.” Gabe shrugged. “Sorry.”

Ana glared at him, eyes running up and down his unhurt frame. “You’re wearing a sweatshirt and jeans, Gabriel. If one of them had gotten a stray shot…”

“But they didn’t. Plus I had some help.”

“Who?” Moira asked with interest, having finally let the poor EMS worker go. “Did they kill the one with the absolutely enormous exit wound in the back of his head?”

“Yeah. Some hero, didn’t recognize him. Came too late, but got the one that wasn’t as dead as I thought he was,” Gabe said, grudging respect in his voice. “Damn heroes, getting the glory when we do most of the legwork.”

“Doesn’t look like this one was looking for glory, if he didn’t stick around,” said Ana, turning over the headshot gunrunner with a steel toed boot. “And it sounds like he saved you.”

“The dead guy’s gun was empty, he couldn’t have shot me.”

“He still could have hit you over the head. Be thankful for your hero, and for the fact that you are unscathed. And for your vacation, because you’re now suspended until we sort this out.”

“Ana!”

“You know the rules, Gabriel. You were off duty, people are dead. You get to meet with the counselor and the captain. And that doesn’t mean at home, that means make an actual appointment.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll stop in tomorrow morning.”

“No, you’ll give me your badge now.”

“Ana. You don’t outrank me.”

“No, but they have to take your gun for evidence anyways, if you give me your badge now then you won’t have to do it at 6 am and can sleep in.” Ana patted his arm. “Go home and relax. Don’t talk to anyone you shouldn’t.” She gave him a significant look.

-x-x-x-x-x-

A knock came from Gabe’s fire escape window. He tilted his head back enough to see who it was before rolling his eyes and yelling out, “Go away!”

A jiggle at the broken handle and Jack was gingerly stepping his way through the window, nudging a blue bin out of the way.. “You really need to take out your recycling, Gabe. I could break a leg coming in here.”

“Maybe that means you should use, oh I don’t know, the door. And go away. I’m not supposed to talk to you.”

“‘Cause of the shooting, earlier?”

“Yeah. I’m suspended. Well, at least I will be when you suspend me tomorrow.”

“Sorry in advance. You know procedure.”

“Whatever, Captain. I’m broken-hearted. Give me a consoling beer.”

Jack dangled a beer in front of Gabe’s face, collapsing into a corner of the couch with his own bottle. They both popped the caps open on the edge of Gabe’s metal coffee table, clinked bottles, and drank. Gabe turned on the tv, an old Lakers vs. Knicks game playing. Jack snatched the control away.

“Nope, I’m not dealing with you being a bitch over that tonight.” Avoiding Gabe’s half hearted swipe at the remote, Jack flipped to the news, where Gabe’s afternoon adventures were being broadcast. They sat and watched for a minute in silence.

“There was a hero?” Jack asked, draining his beer.

“Just at the very end. Didn’t recognize him, but I don’t know all of them. That nuclear plant has a lot to answer for.”

“Winston’s currently doing a big survey, trying to track how many of them are running around right now. It’s hard because they’re actually in the second generation - the Changed that were originally affected had kids, and those kids could be in their twenties or early thirties by now.” Jack thought for a second as he popped open another beer. “They actually could be in the third generation, really, though they wouldn’t be fighting yet.”

“Whatever. As long as they stay out of our business.”

“Sounds like this one helped, got a guy at the end.”

“Eh. I’d have been fine. Nice ass, though.”

“Gabriel Reyes, look at you. And here I thought it’d fallen off from lack of use.”

Gabe threw his bottle cap at Jack, hitting him in the forehead. “Yeah, because being surrounded by a bunch of subordinates, female fellow lieutenants and you is getting me laid right now, asshole.”

“Maybe if you did literally anything other than work you might meet someone.”

“I don’t need to meet someone. The job is my someone.”

Jack stretched and stood up. “Really, though, Gabe. You need to get out more. Or at least if you see that guy again, throw him down and have your way with him.”

“I’ll see you at 8, Jack. Now out.”

-x-x-x-x-x-

Four days later Gabe was doing his best to run himself into exhaustion, looping around blocks but always coming back to the spine of Fulton. He’d been suspended by Jack, met with the counselor twice, and had one more meeting with her the next day before he would be cleared for duty. He was itchy, having run out of stockpiled paperwork, books and movies that he hadn’t seen a hundred times before. He was eating giant greasy meals like he did in the academy, balancing it out with exercising the rest of the time.

Gabe jogged slower and slower, coming to a walk several blocks away from his apartment. He was just about to turn on to his street when he heard a scream, quickly cut off. He twisted his head around, trying to figure out where it came from. His eyes fell on the corner bodega, where he could see several people inside but no movement. Kneeling down to surreptitiously check his ankle holster under the guise of tying a shoelace, he turned and pushed open the door.

“Hi Mrs. Whatley,” he called out to the older woman at the counter.

“Hello, Gabriel,” she said in a tight voice. He met her eyes, which flicked up to the security mirror above. He looked up as well, and saw a young man crouched down in the aisle to his left, knife in his hand.

“You get in any more of those pepperoni rolls?”

“No, you know we only get them when my son brings some in from Pennsylvania.”

“Shame. I was looking forward to them.”

Gabe was moving as he was talking, and quickly crept into the aisle with the young man. Legs still loose from his run, he plowed into him and slammed him to the ground, the knife skittering away to the counter.

“NYPD, hands behind your back.” The young man - kid, really - struggled, but couldn’t go anywhere with Gabe’s weight on top of him.

“Mrs. Whatley -”

“I already hit the panic button, dear.”

“Thank you. Could you get the knife, please?”

Before she could do so, Gabe saw a metal hand reach down and grab it up. He twisted his head to see a familiar figure.

“Mystery man. We meet again.”

“And too late again, it seems.” The man picked the knife up and politely asked Mrs Whatley if he could set it behind the counter. After doing so, he leaned against the counter, hip cocked, and folded his arms. “Do you ever do police work in uniform? Or is the NYPD a lot more casual than I thought?”

Gabe shifted his weight to keep the kid down, but able to breathe. “Nah, this is my local. I’m technically suspended still, after the kerfuffle from a few days ago.”

“Ah.”

After a minute of silence, Gabe asked, “Do you happen to have any cuffs on you? Criminal or not, it’s cruel to keep someone on the floor like this.”

“You know I keep my floors sparkling clean, Gabriel!”

“I know, ma’am, but people track in disgusting things all day.”

A pair of metal cuffs dangled in front of him.

“Thanks.”

“No problem, darlin’.”

Gabe frowned at the pet name, but cuffed the kid and hauled him up to get a look at his face. He narrowed his eyes as he looked him over. “Hey. Kid. Isn’t your brother Elijah, Elijah something -”

“My brother's dead.” The kid looked at the floor. Gabe didn’t know his name but his brother was a low-level dealer that was brought in every few weeks like clockwork. They lived just a few blocks over.

“Sorry to hear. That what got you doing this?”

The kid sniffed, blinking back tears. “We couldn’t afford the funeral.”

Gabe sighed and walked the kid over to the counter, pushing him down into a chair that Mrs. Whatley rolled over. “That’s what the community center on South Oxford is for. They have donations, they can help you get set up. You’re young. And you saw what happens when you get in over your head, like your brother. We want to keep you out of that life.”

“What do you care?”

“‘Cause I live here, kid, two blocks west. I don’t just work the area. And I don’t want people on my turf dying when they don’t have to.”

The door jingled as it opened, and Gabe turned to see two of his officers come in.

“Hey, Lieutenant.”

“Song, Santos. This is…” he trailed off and looked at the kid.

“Walker.”

“...Walker, Elijah Whitfield’s brother. He’s grieving his brother’s loss, made a stupid mistake. Won’t do it again.” He shook the kid’s shoulder. “Right?”

“Right.”

He handed the kid over to Song, and the knife to Santos. “Try and keep me out of this if you can, I’m just a passing citizen. Oh, and can you switch the cuffs out? Those belong to this guy,” he nodded over at the mystery man.

He grabbed a cup of coffee while they did the switch, the hero talking to Hana for a few minutes. Mrs. Whatley wouldn’t let him pay for the coffee, and promised to let him know as soon as the pepperoni rolls came in. Little grease bombs, but damn they were delicious.

Gabe found himself leaving the store behind the mystery man, turning the same way as him.

“So. Gabriel.” He said the name like he was tasting it.

“So. Mystery man.”

“I go by the Black Arm, generally.”

“‘Cause of that, I’m guessing,” Gabe gestured to the metal left arm with his coffee. “What happened there?”

“Maybe if we meet again, I’ll tell you.”

“No offense, but I’d rather not. If we’re meeting again it probably means another crime’s happening and I’m a day away from being back on duty.”

“Mmm. And perhaps I just want to see you again. No crime involved.”

“Is that so,” Gabriel shot the man an assessing look. They were of a height, and though Gabe still couldn’t tell anything about his face, he stood by his earlier statement about the man’s ass. Had to be in shape all over in order to jump around like he was doing the other day, too.

“You’re not like most cops I’ve seen around here. Or anywhere, really.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, I think.”

“You should, darlin’.” Between one blink and another the Black Arm was up on a fire escape. “I’ll see you around, Gabriel.” With a swirl of cape, he was gone.

Gabe kept walking home.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Gabe jerked his head to the side as a rocks glass flew by it and shattered.

“Someone get to the back, face tattoo is making a break for it!” he yelled into his shirt mike.

“We’ve got our hands full, Lieu, why can’t you get him?”

“Because I’m holding a gun on three guys in the bar.” Gabe fired a warning shot into the floor when one twitched his hand towards a pool cue. The door creaked open and his friend with the facial tattoo fell through and sprawled on the floor at his feet. A familiar black hat and blue scarf peeked around the door.

“Hello again, Gabriel. This one of yours?”

“Yeah, actually. Thanks.”

Face tattoo tried to get up, only to have his arm pushed firmly downwards with one of the Black Arm’s heavy boots. “Stay.”

Half an hour later the bar was mostly empty, Gabe, the Black Arm, and Moira sitting at the bar watching the last of the gang members be packed away into prisoner transport vehicles. Moira unfolded her long limbs and started to gingerly pick her way through the broken glass.

“You need a ride back to the station, Gabe?”

“Nah, this is me signing off duty. It’s Ana’s op, she gets to handle all the paperwork for it. I’m gonna have a drink.”

Moira’s gaze flitted from Gabe to the man next to him and back, mismatched eyes crinkling just slightly in her version of a smile. “See you tomorrow, then.”

Gabe grabbed the bartender’s attention and ordered a beer. The man stared at him and the surrounding destruction for only a moment before grabbing a clean glass and starting to pull a draft. Money was money, after all. The Black Arm was still next to him, to Gabe’s surprise, and he ordered a bourbon.

“Still with the casual wear, I see.”

Gabe looked down at his beater and badly fitting jeans and sighed. “Not my clothing, believe me, this was just undercover stuff.”

“They send a lieutenant undercover?”

“Not usually, but this was MS-13 versus Latin Kings business, the former’s trying to muscle in from their territory in Long Island and the Bloodline faction isn’t happy about it. I was the only one who wouldn’t get turned away from the door based on looks alone, so I got pulled in to be eyes on the ground.”

“Mmm.”

“What’ve you been up to, past few weeks? Catch any fun criminals?”

The Black Arm pulled his scarf down enough to take a drink, and Gabe caught sight of a wide, naturally downturned mouth surrounded by a moustache and neat goatee. He took a swallow of beer, not sure if he was hoping for the glance to be noticed or not.

“You know how it is. Take down a serial killer here, help a lil’ ol’ lady cross the street there. Nothin’ much interesting.”

Something sparked in Gabe’s memory. “Oh wait, the prostitute killer over in Red Hook? That was you? Heard that was a nice bit of work.”

The Black Arm shrugged a shoulder. “I had the time.”

Gabe sipped his beer and tried to reconcile this man who seemed to want nothing to do with fame with virtually every other hero he’d know. The guy seemed to treat the job like...well, much like Gabe did. A job that needed done, no more, no less.

They chatted about minor things for some time, each with a second drink, before they both slid money across the bar and made their way outside. Gabe made his way to his motorcycle parked illegally - but what was illegal, when you _were_ the cops? - in a side alley. He cleared his throat.

“You need a ride anywhere?”

Even through the dim light, the shadow from the hat, and the mask, Gabe could tell from the glint of eyes that the Black Arm was smiling. _Throw him down and have your way with him_ Jack’s voice echoed in his brain, and Gabe rubbed a hand over his eyes to clear his head.

During the few moments of his hand being up, the Black Arm had moved close to Gabe. Very close. He pulled his blue scarf down just enough to bare that wide mouth of his before he leaned forward to steal a kiss. Gabe’s lips parted in surprise and the other man took advantage and darted a clever tongue in. Just as Gabe’s brain got with the program and he moved to kiss back, the Black Arm had already pulled away, scarf back in place like nothing had ever happened.

“I'll catch you later, Gabe.”

He was gone, Gabe’s head still reeling and unable to tell which direction the hero had vanished. He rubbed his mouth for a second, memory of wet lips and rough hair flashing through his brain, before wheeling his motorcycle out and heading for home.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Gabe blinked his eyes as another drop of blood fell into them. He was hanging upside down, bound by tight ropes, and the gunshot wound through his leg was dripping down on him. It seemed to be relatively minor, through-and-through with a small caliber, and the fact he was feet-first in the air was helping combat the blood loss. His head was pounding from the position, though, and he was starting to feel faintly nauseous from his slow rotation.

An enormous cybernetic hand stopped Gabe’s spin. He tried to clear his eyes, before focusing on the face in front of him. Strong, handsome features, white paint, that arm…

“Doomfist.”

The man’s face transformed with a smile and a deep laugh. “You’ve heard of me.”

“Everyone has.” It was true. The man was the current leader of the villainous faction of the the city, which meant that the shot through his leg was likely from his second, Widowmaker.

“I don’t care about everyone, I just care about one. Your boyfriend.”

Perhaps it was the blood loss or the upside-down position, but Gabe was very confused. “I’m...not dating anyone. Really. Haven’t for quite some time. Think you’ve got the wrong guy, here.”

“No?” Doomfist put a picture in front of Gabe’s face, considerately turning it upside-down for him. From the angle it must have been a drone or oddly-placed security camera, and it was of Gabe and the Black Arm kissing in the alleyway. “He is always so careful, we’ve been trying to get something on him for years, but it seems he finally broke his rules for you.”

“Okay, yeah, we kissed. But that was it. If you’re trying to use me to get to him you’re out of luck. We really don’t know each other that well, and I doubt that he’ll know I’m here.”

Doomfist shrugged his massive shoulders. “Then we get to take out a decorated lieutenant of the NYPD. Win-win, in my book.”

There was a crashing sound of metal-on-metal and a black blur that Gabe’s dizzied eyes couldn’t focus on. Doomfist let out a curse and darted away, his arm starting to crackle blue. Gabe wasn’t totally sure what was happening but he saw black-clad bodies falling so he was hoping it was going in his favor. Before long the only sounds he could hear were his own labored breathing and the electric snapping from Doomfist’s gauntlet.

“Let him go and this doesn’t have to end with your death, Akande.” Gabe closed his eyes at the familiar drawl. He’d shown up after all.

“I think you are overestimating what your pea-shooter can do, Arm. You can’t hit all of me before I get to you.”

Gabe’s slow spin brought the Black Arm in his eyeline. He was holding his giant gun - which, okay, was pretty small when compared to Doomfist’s….well, everything. He didn’t seem ruffled, though, and he winked at Gabe before bracing his arm on a strut and taking careful aim.

“Good thing I don’t have to.” One bullet hit the cylinder on the outside of Doomfist’s gauntlet. The whole thing started to send blue arcs of electricity through the air as the villain tried desperately to get it off. Another bullet hit the cylinder on the inside, and Gabe shut his eyes against the eye-searing flash of light that resulted. By the time the afterimages faded, he was being gently lowered to the floor.

“Sorry it took me so long,” the Black Arm murmured, cutting through the ropes holding Gabe’s arms to his sides.

“I’m just glad you got here at all.” Gabe pushed himself up, looking over at where Doomfist was. There was a smoking, damaged gauntlet, but no man. “Guess it’s too much to hope for that it killed him.”

“It’ll take a lot more than malfunctionin’ technology to take Akande down. We’ve been takin’ shots at each other for a decade now, but we’re both still kickin’. Never brought outsiders into our tiffs, though. Sorry again, darlin’.”

As Gabe’s legs were unwrapped, he hissed as the pressure around his leg was released and the blood started to flow freely.

“Well, that doesn’t look good.” The Black Arm pulled off his scarf and wrapped it around the leg, using a sheathed knife as a tourniquet. Gabe hazily looked his fill of what he could see of the man’s face. There was a shadow of stubble on his cheeks, ruining what looked like careful facial grooming. A square jaw, a nose that looked like it had been broken a few times, long eyelashes seen through the mask that were lowered as the Arm worked on Gabe’s leg.

“You’re going to need a hospital. Can you walk?” Gabe got upright with a set of strong arms around him, but was back on the ground with a step.

Without further ado the Black Arm swept him up into his arms. Gabe blinked and they were on the other side of the building, another blink and they were outside.

“Super strength, super speed? That your talent set?”

“Mostly. Good aim too, though I’m not sure how much of that is just me so I work to keep that up.” The world kept going by in short bursts, a block or two flashing past at a time. Gabe would feel stranger about being carried around in public by another man, except everything just hurt too much. He closed his eyes and zoned out, only to open them what felt like a second later at a familiar voice.

“Mein Gott, Gabe! What did you do to yourself?!” Angela’s voice cut through the buzzing in his head.

“Hi, Angie. ‘M a little busted up,” Gabe slurred out. There were two Angelas in front of him. No wait, four? That couldn't be right.

“Wait, wait,” Gabe said as they started to wheel him away. “Where’d he go?” He moved his head around the best he could, but he couldn’t see any sign of the Black Arm.

“Where did who go, Gabe? We found you here on a gurney, alone.”

Gabe sank back, letting the darkness at the edge of his vision overtake him.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Two days later, and Gabe was ready to climb the walls of his apartment. He wasn’t suspended this time, instead he was on ‘leave’, a forced vacation until he got cleared with the counselor again. He was worried it might take longer this time - it was the same shrink as before, and she had been uncomfortably perceptive during their previous meetings. He had got through the aftermath okay - blaming everything on Doomfist wanting to kidnap a NYPD lieutenant and leaving the Black Arm out of everything except the rescue at the end. It’s not like either the hero or the villain would be around to officially contradict the record.

Gabe was slouched down on his couch shirtless with sweatpants cut off at the knee that left room for his thickly wrapped leg to be propped up on the table. He’d managed a shower earlier in the evening, after experimenting with garbage bags and medical tape. His leg was healing okay, but it was a pretty bad infection risk so he was ordered to stay away from anything with germs. Which was pretty much the whole city.

As Gabe rested his head on one arm and tried to pay attention to the movie in front of him, he heard a familiar chattering of broken window latch and a grunt as a foot went into his recycling bin.

“I’m not moving my shit, Jack, you need to learn to use the door. And go the fuck away, I’m tired of babysitters.”

“I’ve been called a lot of things in my time, but ‘babysitter’ is a first.” Gabe looked over to see the Black Arm, leaning hipshot against the doorway to the living room.

“Sorry. Wasn’t meant for you. Oh, hey, you probably want your stuff back.” Gabe tried to get up but a leather-clad hand pushed him back down. “It’s over there, on the table. Think I got most of the blood out.”

The man walked over and fingered the fabric. “Looks almost good as new. Surprising, given how much blood was on it.”

“Cold salt water and unseasoned meat tenderizer. Swear to god." Gabe shifted his leg painfully. "I guess I don't need to ask how you got to my fire escape ten floors up, but how’d you figure out where I lived in the first place?”

“Stole a business card from your wallet. Then used a database I shouldn’t have access to.” Silence for a moment, as the Arm carefully folded the scarf back up and set it on top of the knife. “I...I didn’t come to get my stuff back. Not mainly, at least.”

Gabe sat up a little, letting his injured leg come to rest on the floor before settling back. “Why then, Arm?”

The other man unclipped his cape and set it on the table, pulling off his hat and running a hand through dark hair as he sat in a chair facing Gabe.

“Jesse. My name is Jesse. Figured if I got you shot you at least deserve that.” He fiddled with the buttons on his waistcoat for a moment, seeming for the first time like just a man rather than the archetype Gabe had been dealing with.

“I’m sorry. Just really...sorry. This isn’t the usual collateral damage, where firefights catch someone else in them, this is you specifically bein’ picked out because of me.”

Gabe watched silently as the metal hand tugged off the glove on the flesh one, revealing broad fingers with gun oil staining the cuticles that soon started picking at a loose thread. “I’ve tried so hard, over the past two decades. Makin’ sure that no one would get injured like this because of me. Stayin’ away from, well, pretty much everyone so _this_ wouldn’t happen. And then...you.”

Gabe gnawed on the edge of his lip for a moment before opening his mouth to speak. “I’m pretty much the last person to be giving this advice, because it’s given to me pretty much constantly. Maybe it’s starting to get through, I don’t know. But...you gotta live outside of the job. I’m not the best at it, obviously,” he waved an arm to encompass his apartment that mostly resembled a precinct storage room. “But even if it’s something little, like being a regular at a restaurant or recognizing the kid down the street. We all need human connection. Without it, it’s hard to know what we’re saving.”

The Black Arm - no, Jesse. Jesse stood and took a step towards Gabe, then two away, then three back. Gabe stretched his arms out along the back of the couch, aware of how it made his chest and biceps look. “For the record, you know, I’m not sorry.”

Jesse stopped, only a few paces away from Gabe, now. He looked steadily into Gabe’s eyes. “For what.”

Gabe shrugged. “For all of this. Maybe I got shot but, hey, I’m injured in the line of duty pretty much all the time. And even though I can tell you want to jump out of that window and out of my life, it was worth it, getting to know you. And having the best kiss I’ve had in ten years.”

The corner of that generous mouth twitched up into a crooked smile. “I don’t know if that’s sayin’ much about me, or how little of a social life you have.”

Gabe shrugged, and made a careless gesture with a hand that he told himself wasn’t shaking. “Then come over here and finish what you started.”

A black blur, and a satisfying weight was pressing down on Gabe’s thighs. Jesse was in his lap, knees to either side of Gabe’s waist and hands pressed to his shoulders. Gabe slithered an arm around his waist and pulled him forward, their foreheads touching. His other arm came up and he gently gripped the back of Jesse’s head, pulling him down that last few inches to meet his lips. It was a slow kiss - not sweet, but rather tired and taking its time. They spent long minutes getting to know each others' mouths, until Gabe started to feel itchy like he did when he was trapped in his apartment too long. One of them was wearing too many clothes.

He let his arms slide down until they were at Jesse’s waist, pulling apart buttons and undoing buckles with deft fingers. He pushed at the belt and holster until it clanked onto the hardwood floor. Like the noise was a signal, Gabe worked at getting Jesse’s waistcoat off of him while Jesse undid his shirt buttons and stripped off his tie, the whole thing coming off to be pushed behind them. Gabe ran his hands over the well-muscled torso in front of him, finding many, oh so many scars from bullet and blade. He nipped his way down the long neck in front of him, pulling Jesse up onto his knees so he could get his mouth on the nipples that were tempting him. A soft moan came from above as Gabe worried his teeth against tan skin.

Jesse sat back down onto Gabe’s thighs with a grunt, grabbing his face and kissing him hard with teeth and tongue scraping noises from deep within Gabe. He grabbed Gabe’s hand and slid it around to cup his own ass. “Do you have anything?”

Gabe groaned knowing one of them would have to move. He waved a hand at his bedroom, “Nightstand, top drawer.”

Jesse levered himself up, obviously hard in his pants as he stole into Gabe’s bedroom. Gabe heard the drawer open, then the rustle of fabric. Jesse came out with lube and condom in hand, stripped down to a dark pair of underwear and the ever-present mask. Once he got close enough, Gabe snagged the waistband with a finger and pulled him closer. “You’re still overdressed.”

“Comin’ from the man still wearin’ pants, that doesn’t mean much.”

Gabe let go of Jesse to hook his fingers under his own waistband and pull his sweats down to his ankles. “Knew there was a reason I went commando today.”

Jesse pulled his own underwear off and tossed the supplies on the couch beside Gabe before swinging a leg over again. This time their cocks slid against each other as Jesse settled close, and both men’s breath roughened. Gabe grabbed both of them up in a loose hand and made idle movements up and down, relishing in the snag of skin against skin. His hand was pulled away and a bottle of lube pushed into it. “Best get started or I’m not gonna last much longer, darlin’.”

Gabe dropped the bottle to pull Jesse’s head down in a wet kiss. As they pulled apart Gabe’s hands glided up Jesse’s face until they rested on the edges of the mask. He could feel Jesse still on top of him.

“Can I?”

After a moment of hesitation Jesse nodded, the movement already making the mask slip. Gabe pulled it off, tossing it somewhere in the room. His fingers pushed dark hair back from the face finally revealed in front of him. He had dark eyes, seeming even darker by the circles and lines that surrounded them and told of too many nights working. Gabe traced the lines on his forehead that spoke of an oft-furrowed brow, kissing it smooth as Jesse’s shaggy eyebrows drew down.

“Even better than I’d imagined.”

Jesse caught his mouth up again in a kiss, as Gabe flicked open the cap of the lube by touch alone. He smoothed his way down Jesse’s back with his clean hand, changing to his slicked-up hand as he reached his ass. Jesse broke the kiss to sigh into his mouth as Gabe pushed in with a finger. Gabe comforted with his mouth on a jawline, fingers dancing around a cock, and another finger working its way in. He pushed forward, curled forward, and there it was - Jesse jerked against Gabe, cock leaving a gleaming trail against his chest.

“Come on, I’m ready.”

Gabe ripped the wrapper open with his teeth, smoothing the condom down first with one hand, then the other to slick it up. He pulled Jesse up the way he had before, teeth catching at a nipple before Jesse sank down.

“You good?”

“Mmm. Very. _You_ good? You let me know if I hit your leg, okay?”

“Just move,” Gabe whispered into Jesse’s mouth as he pushed him up and then yanked him down. They no longer moved slow, Jesse’s knees bracing him as his hips started a punishing rhythm. Gabe did the best he could to help, but with only one leg able to push against the floor it was Jesse’s show.

Gabe could feel himself reaching the edge far sooner than he’d hoped. He wrapped a hand around Jesse’s cock, leftover lube and precome more than enough to make the ride smooth.

“Not gonna last if you do that,” Jesse gasped out.

“Me neither,” Gabe panted before pulling Jesse’s face down into a hard kiss. Jesse bit down hard on Gabe’s lip as he came, moaning into his mouth. Gabe followed soon after, unable to handle the tight contractions around him. Jesse lazily licked the traces of blood off of Gabe’s mouth as their bodies came to a stop, mouths moving over each other with no style or grace. In the haze of endorphins, Gabe didn’t notice the clatter of the window latch.

“Hey asshole I brought some beerooOH my god I did not need to see that Jesus fuck I sit on that couch!” Jack’s voice morphed into panic as he rounded the corner into the living room. Gabe hefted the bottle of lube, checking by feel to make sure the lid was on, before chucking it at Jack.

“Did you just hit me with fucking lub -”

“This is why you use the door, fucker, now get the hell out!”

Another clatter as Jack exited, knocking over the recycling bin in his urgency.

Shaking from above Gabe, as Jesse laughed silently into his shoulder. If he was capable of getting it up again so soon he just might have from the clenching around his cock still in Jesse’s ass.

“Friend of yours, I take it?”

“And my captain in the precinct, believe it or not.”

“Oh, god. That’s delightful on so many levels.”

Gabe smoothed his hands over Jesse’s back, rubbing at the knots of muscle he could feel. “I know we were just talking about how you’re so careful to not put people in danger but…”

Jesse caught Gabe’s lips with his own, greedily taking what he wanted. “Well now that I’ve had a taste I can’t let this go.” He pushed Gabe’s head back to meet his eyes, running a hand through sweaty curls. “Of anyone I could get involved with...you’re probably the best, the safest. Capable of taking care of yourself, obviously - hell, I get there too late for most of the heroics when you’re around. Got the power of the NYPD behind you, and a captain right next door.” A quick, dirty kiss. “And a dick I’m not willin’ to give up anytime soon.”

Gabe smiled against his mouth. This was something new for both of them - not just dating across hero lines, but dealing with relationships and the job in general. They might not be the best on their own, but maybe they could stumble towards a relationship together. He settled Jesse more firmly in his lap. All that were questions for later, though. Now, they had each other. He wondered if Jack had left the beer before leaving.


End file.
